Lightning Strikes
by IWantColouredRain
Summary: Three generations of Potters meet their newborn children for the first time. Happy 38th birthday to Harry Potter, and happy 53rd birthday to J. K. Rowling!


**I don't own Harry Potter, save for Sage's twins.**

* * *

 _ **Potter Cottage, Wales, Great Britain: March 27**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 1960**_

Fleamont Potter paced anxiously outside of the door. He was desperately praying to every god and goddess he could think of that this would go well. Mia and he had tried so hard to have a child, and this pregnancy was a miracle. If something went wrong when they were so close they would both be heartbroken by it. That is if Mia survived. She was nearly fifty, old even for a witch to be giving birth.

He was broken from his frantic, circular thoughts by a loud wail that caused his breath to freeze in his throat.

"Congratulations, Monty," his younger brother, Charlus told him warmly, slapping his back as the door opened and Charlus' wife, Dorea stepped out.

Prim as always, despite wearing an apron stained with various substances from the birth, she gave a broad smile. "They're both doing wonderfully," she announced, and Fleamont felt his legs give out from the relief that flooded him.

"They are?" He gasped disbelievingly. "Boy or girl?"

"Go and see for yourself," she urged, smiling warmly at him, her own stomach just barely beginning to swell with her own coming child.

"Go on," Charlus agreed, helping him to his feet and pushing him in the direction of the bedroom door.

Fleamont stumbled forward into the purple-and-blue decorated room, freezing at the sight of the bed. Euphemia was lying propped up several pillows, having already been cleaned by magic. She was clutching a white-covered bundle in her slim arms, and Fleamont was entranced by the sight. She glanced up at him briefly, a smile dancing on her lips.

"Come and meet our son, Monty," she ordered radiantly.

"Our son," he repeated dumbly, staggering over to the bed to stare in shock at the bundle. The boy was small, and squashed, and red and howling his tiny lungs out. Fleamont was sure that he had never seen such a magnificent sight in all his life.

"He's fantastic," he breathed out reverently. Carefully, he ran a finger over the soft cheek, awed by the feelings of love, protectiveness and adoration that enveloped him as the baby shifted in Mia's arms, stopping his angry wails.

"He's perfect," Mia agreed with a happy sigh. "Our little James. He'll save the world one day, just you wait."

"I have no doubt about it," Fleamont grinned. The grin softened to an amazed smile as James' tiny hand locked itself in a surprisingly firm grip around his father's index finger. "He'll be great one day, that's for sure."

* * *

 _ **Potter Cottage, Wales: 31**_ _ **st**_ _ **July, 1981**_

"This is all _your_ fault," Lily snarled at her husband as she shook from the force of yet another contraction. So far, her labour had lasted nearly ten hours with James missing the first four hours due to a business meeting, and Lily was absolutely exhausted.

James gave a nervous smile. While Lily was usually the soul of sweetness and compassion, when she was angry she could put a hurricane to shame with the damage she wrecked on her unlucky victim.

Sirius, who had been the one with Lily when she went into labour, had already had his hand broken. He was now waiting on Lily's other side, as anxious as James was for the baby to finally arrive. Of course, Sirius was undoubtedly going to be a second father to the baby, so it made sense that he was also a wreck of nerves.

"Alright Lily," Mary Jones (née MacDonald) announced. "You're ready to push now. Squeeze down when the next contraction hits."

Reinvigorated at the prospect of the labour ending, Lily shifted herself up with James' help. A scream wrenched itself from her throat as she pushed, urged on by Mary and her husband and surrogate brother. James and Sirius said nothing but encouragement as Lily broke James' hand from the force of her grip.

"I can see the head!" Mary cried. "One more push Lily! You're nearly there!"

"Go on Evans," Sirius added. "Prongslette wants to meet her Mummy and Daddy."

"Argghh!" Lily cried, clenching her eyes shut and using the last of her energy to push. A second later, she was rewarded by a loud wail.

"It's a girl!" James cried, jumping over to the midwife's side to see their child. Lily lifted her exhausted head and craned it to see as her husband carefully cradled the fragile bundle (already cleaned, thank Merlin for magic) and carried it- _her_ , they had a _daughter_ -over to Lily.

"She's gorgeous," he breathed in amazement, not daring to take his eyes off of the child as he focused on trying to memorize every last tiny detail of the squalling child.

"She's brilliant," Lily agreed, tears of wonder falling from her eyes as she reached out to touch her gently, as if to assure herself that it wasn't a dream.

"Takes after Evans," Sirius joked, his grey eyes gleaming slightly with his own tears. Usually a comment like that would've earned him a hex from his best friend, but James was so distracted by the baby that Sirius didn't think he even heard him.

"Are we still happy with the name that we decided on?" Lily asked her husband without removing her gaze from the baby.

"Sage Euphemia Potter," James said it aloud. He grinned, briefly turning to his wife. "I think she's perfect."

"Yeah," Lily agreed. "She is." They all fell silent for a moment, entranced by the love they felt for the tiny infant. There was a war going on, her life was in danger just because of Lily's heritage and James' decision to marry her, but none of them would've traded that moment for the world. Any pain that was coming would be worth it as long as Sage lived.

* * *

 _ **12 Grimauld Place, London: November 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **, 2006**_

"Twins," Sage muttered. "You would get me pregnant with _twins_. Damn it George." Despite her mock grumbling, Sage hadn't stopped beaming since her labour ended and Katie passed her the two squalling children who now were now resting comfortably in her arms.

Despite the predictions of the muggle midwife who had confirmed the pregnancy, Sage had avoided giving birth on the anniversary of her parents' deaths, a huge relief. She would've loved her children no matter what, of course. But the thought of such an important day being marred by the painful memories of her past Halloweens had distressed her for months. George half suspected that she'd used magic to delay the onset of her labour.

"Mmm, a great prank," George hummed, gaze fixed on the matching bundles. "Pretending to be one person before birth. I forsee good things in our boys' future, my dear lady. Yes I do."

"You're mad," Sage snorted. "Our poor babies, stuck with your genetics. What in Merlin's name was I thinking?"

"You were probably thinking, oh that dashing ginger is the soul of charm and amazement," George suggested cheekily. He quickly distracted her before she could disentangle herself enough from the twins to grab her wand and hex him. "So, what'll we name them both? We only had the one name picked out, unless you want to name one of them Hazel Lily."

"We aren't naming one of our sons Hazel Lily Potter," Sage scoffed, casting him an exasperated look that lasted half-a-second at most before she returned her gaze to her babies.

Tears welled in her hazel eyes as she realized that for the first time since she could remember, she had a blood family. Not just blood relatives, who tolerated her out of fear of Dumbledore, but _family_. These little boys shared her blood, and they would love her.

A sob fell out of her throat and she leaned down to inhale the scent of her eldest (who had a red string around his left wrist to differentiate between the boys. Her second-born son had a gold string, and Sage had made a mocking comment about brainwashing her children from birth upon spotting them. _"Never too early to start teaching a child the ways of the world,"_ George had cheerfully replied.)

Thankfully, George made no mention of her tears, simply resting a hand gently on her back as she brushed her lips gently over the smooth bald head.

"We'll name our eldest Cayden James," she sniffled. "You can pick our second baby's name. Same clauses apply, and I reserve the right to veto anything that'll get him laughed at in school."

"Elvendork Forge," George suggested, and she could hear the mischievous grin in his tone, but couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away from the infants in order to glare at him for messing around with their child's name.

"No," she said firmly. " _Not_ Elvendork. _Ever._ "

"Aw, come on," he urged teasingly. "He'll stand out. People'll be so interested by his first name that they won't even notice the 'Potter' part of it."

" _George_!" She finally ripped her stare away from her sons in order to glare viciously at her husband, threatening severe pain and a week-long couch vacation if he didn't start taking the conversation seriously.

"Okay, okay!" He laughed, raising his hands in a 'calm down' gesture. Then he turned serious, falling silent to contemplate the name they would bestow upon their second born.

"Well, we chose Cayden because it means fighter, didn't we?" He asked. She nodded, raising an eyebrow at the contemplative look on his face. "Well, how about Alexander to go with it? It means 'defender of mankind', and there was that muggle emperor. Alexander the Great. Seems like a good namesake for our boy."

Sage hummed and considered the suggestion for a moment. Then she smiled and nodded. "Alexander Potter," she said approvingly. "I like it. What about his middle name?"

"Sirius," George said immediately. Sage's hazel eyes welled up with tears.

"Really?" She sniffled. "Are you sure? It means both of our babies will be named for my family as well as giving them my surname. Are you sure that you don't want to make it Charles after your brother?"

"I'm sure," George told her softly. "I have four brothers to carry on the Weasley name, and one of the others can honour Charlie. I want our boys to be at least half the men James Potter and Sirius were, because that's when I know we raised them both properly."

She exhaled raggedly and smiled beautifully at him. "Cayden James and Alexander Sirius," she whispered, turning back to the boys and pecking their small foreheads as she named them. "Welcome to the world. And remember this always. You are so loved, my darlings. _So_ loved."

A perfect day, if you asked George anyway. The best in his life.


End file.
